


I Can See For Miles

by anomalousity



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Blind Castiel, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-28
Updated: 2014-03-28
Packaged: 2018-01-17 08:28:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,094
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1380838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anomalousity/pseuds/anomalousity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“What does my smile look like?”</p><p>Dean doesn’t respond right away, and Castiel hears him stand and walk over to him. Right before he feels the brush of hands on his knees, he tenses in anticipation. He shifts his gaze to where Dean’s face should be.</p><p>Hot puffs of breath warm his forehead as Dean speaks. “You’ve got these puffy lips, Cas.” A finger slides over his mouth. “They’re like a girl’s but more chapped and pretty.”</p><p>Castiel tilts his head at that adjective. “Am I pretty?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Can See For Miles

“Dean, why do you hang out with me?”

Castiel stares listlessly off into space, finding nothing as per usual. He kicks his legs, though, as Dean pushes him on his swing. It’s warm today; maybe the flowers are blooming, if the scent in the air is anything to go by.

“Because,” Dean says. “You’re fucking awesome, Cas.” He grunts as he pushes the swing again, and Castiel can feel him running under the swing, followed by delighted chortles and the sound of rustling leaves. “And you’re really light, so I can run right under you.”

He feels his lips pull into a smile but he waits until the swing stops to reach up and touch it. They’re soft, but chapped. After a moment, he lets his hand fall to his lap and he glances in what he hopes is Dean’s direction.

“What does my smile look like?”

Dean doesn’t respond right away, and Castiel hears him stand and walk over to him. Right before he feels the brush of hands on his knees, he tenses in anticipation. He shifts his gaze to where Dean’s face should be.

Hot puffs of breath warm his forehead as Dean speaks. “You’ve got these puffy lips, Cas.” A finger slides over his mouth. “They’re like a girl’s but more chapped and pretty.”

Castiel tilts his head at that adjective. “Am I pretty?”

He doesn’t expect Dean to answer right away, but when his voice sounds near Castiel’s ear, rough and deep and nice in ways Castiel can’t even begin to comprehend, he shivers. “Nah, Cas,” Dean says, letting his hands slide from Castiel’s knees. “You’re gorgeous, man.”

Blood warms his cheeks and Castiel tucks his chin, glancing at where his feet should be. He’s never been called ‘gorgeous’ before, and he hardly believes he is simply because his familiar told him so. “You’re just saying that,” he replies, petulantly.

Dean laughs. “Dude, I wouldn’t lie about something as important as your face.” Fingers settle over Castiel’s jaw and his face is directed skyward. “Besides, even if I was lying to you, which I’m not, what do you care? It’s not like you can see yourself.”

That was a low blow and Castiel feels himself flinch involuntarily.

“I can’t help that, Dean.”

Dean’s fingers tense over his jaw before they slacken and trace up the side of his face. He doesn’t say anything for a few moments, simply maps out Castiel’s features with his fingertips before pausing at the point of his nose.

“Cas, believe me when I say you are the single most attractive person I’ve ever talked to.” Dean sounds serious; his voice quivers with confidence. “And don’t let a damn person tell you otherwise.”

The fingers drop from Castiel’s face and he finds himself leaning after them, searching for contact. When he finds that it’s futile, he relents and folds his arms over his chest. Dean sighs somewhere beside him, and Castiel twists his head in that direction.

“Well, I’d return the compliment but I don’t really know what you look like, Dean.” He forces a laugh before nervously fiddling with his fingernails. He wishes he knew what Dean looks like; hell, he’s probably the handsomest person alive, going off his voice alone. Still, Castiel wants to see his face to confirm his suspicions, but he can’t.

Being blind sucks.

Just as Castiel begins stewing in self-loathing, Dean breaks into his thoughts. “Would you like to touch it?”

“What?”

Dean sighs and warm hands settle over Castiel’s shoulders. “My face,” Dean says, unabashed. “Wanna touch it?”

Castiel swallows before wagering a tiny nod. After a few moments of no movement, Dean sighs again and walks around Castiel to stand between his knees. The air shifts in front of Castiel’s face, and he tenses just before Dean grabs his hand and directs it toward his cheek.

Which, much to Castiel’s surprise, is soft. Carefully, Dean slides his other hand to his face, releasing Castiel’s palms with a gruff, “Have at it.” And, that’s exactly what Castiel does.

He lets his index fingers trace over the arches of Dean’s cheekbones, down the slopes of his jaw, over the slightly crooked ridge of his nose. He outlines the large ovals of Dean’s eyes, skirts up his face and over the arch of his brow, back down to his lips.

And Castiel almost doesn’t want to move on from the soft, plump swell of Dean’s lips.

He fingers up Dean’s cheeks, over the downy hairs at his temples, tugs at his hair before letting his hand drift to Dean’s shoulders, which, he notes, are broad and well-muscled.

Dean must be _beautiful_.

“Dean,” Castiel breathes, letting his hands slide down Dean’s chest before pooling in his lap. “Are you some kind of angel?” He hardly believes the words left his lips, and he feels a hot blush warm his cheeks as Dean contemplates the question.

When he speaks, Castiel’s face just gets hotter. “Dude, I could say the same thing about you. I wish I could describe your eyes; I’ve never seen anything so damn blue.”

At that, Castiel tilts his head again; fixating Dean with what he hopes is a puzzled glance. “What color are your eyes, Dean?” He’s never seen color, but he can imagine it.

“They’re green,” Dean replies, coughing to hide embarrassment, most likely.

Castiel nods, knowing full well that green eyes are considered rare and beautiful. Fitting, he supposes, for someone as beautiful as Dean. He feels another smile stretch across his lips before he turns his gaze back onto Dean.

“Dean,” he murmurs, reaching for Dean’s hand. His grin grows when he catches his fingers and grips them. “I’d very much like to kiss you.” He knows it’s a lot to ask, especially of someone who’s done so much for him as Dean has, but still. Castiel has never really wanted something as much as he wants to kiss Dean in that moment.

Instead of answering him, however, Dean’s lips brush over his own.

It’s soft, and entirely too short, but Castiel can’t bring himself to mind. After a moment of hopeless searching, he squeezes Dean’s fingers and heaves himself up, hesitantly winding his arms around where he suspects Dean’s neck is and pulling himself close.

Just before he lets his lips touch Dean’s, he grins. “And don’t take this the wrong way, but your lips are pretty too,” he murmurs, just before pulling him in for a kiss.

And if he grins when Dean wraps his arms around his waist, well, that’s entirely coincidence.

**Author's Note:**

> Song: [I Can See for Miles](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BKGRijV8U3s).


End file.
